As We Go Along
by Crystal Rose of Pollux
Summary: Life isn't always about saving worlds and going on missions. Sometimes, it's the little things that end up being just as memorable. A series of Season 6B slice-of-life vignettes for the Doctor and Jamie.
1. What Can Go Wrong

_Notes: The characters aren't mine, and the story is! This is the first in a series of "slice-of-life" vignettes/TARDISodes that showcase the lives of Two and Jamie during their moments of downtime in Season 6B. As such, these will be varying in subject material and timeline placement, and will be updated as and when I get the inspiration._

_This first vignette was written for a tumblr buddy._

* * *

"Doctor, can ye just tell me one thing?"

"Yes, Jamie?"

"How could ye lose the TARDIS? _How_?"

The Doctor sighed, glancing up at the sky.

"You're not letting this one go, are you?"

"Ye lost the _TARDIS_!" Jamie said, indignantly. "Ye lost our home!"

"I did not lose the TARDIS!" the Doctor insisted. "The HADS activated, and the TARDIS moved herself to… somewhere."

"Ye lost the TARDIS," Jamie insisted. "And, of course, ye don' have the Stattenheim remote control because ye di'n think to bring it."

"No…" the Doctor sighed. "We were only taking a short walk; how was I to know that something would come along and activate the HADS?"

The duo stared at a perplexed driver standing a few feet away; his car had a badly dented fender, and he was trying to explain to a policeman about how he had skidded off of the wet road and collided with a blue police box, which had then proceeded to vanish before his eyes.

"Five hundred years of travel through space and time, and I assure you, Jamie, that this has never happened before," the Doctor insisted.

"Aye, and it won' happen again," Jamie said. "Ye know why? Because I will be carrying the Stattenheim in my sporran from now on!"

"Now, Jamie… the Celestial Intervention Agency will hardly approve of that; I only just got you back. I don't want to lose you again."

"So ye lost the TARDIS instead? Aye, I see…"

"No…" the Doctor said, facepalming. "I… Oh, never mind! Let's just find the TARDIS and spend some time away from the madness of Earth!"

"And Gallifrey?"

"That goes without saying…"

Jamie shook his head, but followed the Doctor as they cut across the landscape, keeping their eyes open for where the TARDIS had gone. The sky was overcast, threatening to unleash more rain, and Jamie was hoping they'd find the TARDIS before that happened.

As they walked, Jamie winced as he heard his stomach rumbling; he hadn't eaten since that morning, and their little jaunt across the countryside, done so that the Doctor could attain some fossil samples ("Important research," the Doctor had claimed), had not included a meal; though the Time Lords' punishment had only been a few days' separation for Jamie, it had been fifty years of traveling alone for the Doctor, who, in that time, had apparently forgotten that humans required nourishment multiple times a day.

It was out of sheer hunger, therefore, that Jamie stopped in his tracks as they passed a small pond, staring at gray goose sitting on a nest by the water's edge. It took the Doctor a moment to notice that Jamie had stopped; the Time Lord turned around in time to see the Scot slowly sneaking towards the waterfowl.

"Jamie!" the Doctor hissed. "Jamie, what do you think you're doing!?"

"Getting supper fixings!" the piper quipped. "Now shush; ye'll scare her off!"

"Jamie, get back here!" the Time Lord said, frantically waving to the Scot. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Och, Doctor, please! Alexander McLaren and I used to catch geese for our meals when we were in the mood for it. We've got a system; one of us startles the goose and gets it to flee while the other one of us will be right behind it to catch it!"

"Jamie, just answer me one question," the Doctor said, eyeing the fowl nervously. "Did either yourself or Alexander ever attempt this with a nesting female?"

"No, but it cannae be too difficult; they ne'er leave the nest. Now, Doctor, I need ye to approach the goose from that side."

"Not a chance!" the Doctor scoffed. "You're on your own for this crazed endeavor, Jamie. And once it fails, don't say that I didn't warn you."

Jamie gave the Doctor a dark look, but then crept towards the nesting goose. He was within three feet of the fowl when she turned and glared at him with beady, black eyes. Jamie cursed; he had lost his element of surprise, and now he would have to make his move.

He lunged at the goose just as the bird hissed and then flew directly towards him—an unearthly set of noises emitting from her bill. Jamie's look of annoyance now changed to a flash of fear—he had expected the bird to stay still or flee, not attack!

It was the Doctor's laughing that added insult to injury as Jamie scrambled frantically away. A split-second's decision to contemplate on which way to run was all it took; Jamie headed directly for the Doctor as the goose pursued him.

The Doctor's laugh faded in an instant as the Time Lord realized what Jamie was doing.

"Jamie, no! Don't lead that thing over here! Jamie—oh, my word!"

Jamie veered off to the side; as he'd hoped, the bird continued in a straight line towards the Doctor. The Time Lord fled with the fowl in pursuit.

Jamie hadn't sicced the goose on the Doctor simply out of vengeance; if he couldn't get the goose, he could at least get the eggs. The piper now scrambled back towards the nest; his hand had closed around an egg when he heard a loud splash.

"No…" Jamie said, groaning.

He knew what he would see when he looked out onto the water; sure enough, the Gallifreyan had fallen back on crocodilian instincts, seeking refuge under the surface of the water. The goose now turned back towards her nest… getting a full view of Jamie with his hand in the nest.

Jamie released the egg and ran, running along the bank as she gave chase. Eventually, she was convinced that there was enough distance between Jamie and her nest and returned to it.

The Scot now stopped to catch his breath as the Doctor swam up to the bank of the pond and clambered out.

"Well," the Time Lord said, calmly. "Have you learned anything from this, Jamie?"

"Aye," Jamie said. "Ne'er go after a goose if I have a partner who will only complicate the matter."

"Yes—_no_. Jamie… Oh, never mind. I suppose it _is_ my fault for not remembering that you need to eat more often than I do."

"Well, I'm nae really hungry anymore," the piper sighed. "Something aboot nearly getting mauled by a bird tends to ruin your appetite."

"Quite."

"And we're still no better than we were before," Jamie added. "We're still lost, withoot any idea of where the TARDIS could be." He gave a wan smiled as he looked at the Doctor, who was soaking wet from his dip in the pond. "I suppose the only consolation is that I'm nae the one drenched."

It was as that moment that a rumble of thunder filled the air, and a torrent of rain began to fall from the clouds. Within moments, Jamie was drenched, as well, silently turning to glare at the Doctor, who was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"I am still blaming ye for all of this."

"Oh, Jamie…" the Doctor said; the Time Lord's voice was a slightly higher pitch on account of the laughter threatening to break through. "I truly am sorry."

"No, ye're nae."

"Qu-quite right."

The Doctor doubled over, laughing for the first time in the fifty years since the tribunal. Oh, it felt good to laugh again! But even better than that was the sound of Jamie finally cracking and laughing, too. That was what the Doctor had missed most—that treasured sidekick, companion… _family_.

"I really have missed you," the Time Lord stammered, in between laughs.

Jamie couldn't reply; he was laughing too hard, as well. And for several minutes, they leaned against each other as they cackled.

Several yards away, the goose watched them with careful eyes, silently dismissing the both of them as utterly mad.


	2. Infinite Potential

_Notes: This second vignette takes place immediately after the first one_.

* * *

It was three rain-filled hours later that the Doctor and Jamie succeeded in finding the TARDIS; the Doctor had abandoned his fossil hunt for a time unspecified—when the weather would be more enjoyable, and when they would bring enough provisions to keep a hungry human satisfied. Jamie had already devoured every last jelly baby that the Doctor had in his pockets, and the Scot was practically begging the TARDIS to appear before them so that he may gain access to the food machine.

"She won't like the rain," the Doctor said, sighing. "She'll have gone somewhere as watertight as possible… Ah, of course—there should be some small caverns around here!"

And it was there that they found the TARDIS. She wouldn't let them in, at first; she was still irked at being front-ended by the wayward driver and subsequently blamed the Doctor for leaving her on the side of the road in the first place. After much cajoling from the Doctor, who promised that he would never do such a thing again (and also after much desperate howling from a soaked and starving piper), she finally admitted them entry.

Within minutes, the Doctor had changed into his bathrobe and was in front of the fireplace in his study, regulating his body temperature, which had decreased significantly on account of the cold rain. He had a small stack of books with him, and, after warming up a bit, he called out to the piper.

"Jamie! Jamie, can you come here, please?" He listened as he heard footsteps approaching closer. "Ah, Jamie, did you find something to…"

The Doctor trailed off, staring as he saw Jamie standing in the doorway of the study, carrying a plate of sandwiches. That wasn't what surprised the Doctor, however; he hadn't expected to see the piper clad in the Time Lord's own Prydonian robe—minus the ornate headdress.

"Jamie, what—?"

"This was the only thing in yer wardrobe that di'n require trousers," Jamie said, flatly. "I am nae wearing trousers; I have suffered enough today!"

"Jamie, you only got chased by a goose…"

"And drenched, and starved!" Jamie added, sitting down beside the Doctor. He placed the plate on the floor and began to tear ravenously at the sandwiches.

The Doctor said nothing for a moment, but after half of the sandwiches disappeared, he finally spoke.

"You know, Jamie, just because Gallifreyans only need to eat once a day, it doesn't mean that we can't appreciate food when it's presented to us. Just so you're aware…"

Jamie held up the plate, and the Doctor took one of the sandwiches.

"Thank you, Jamie. And when you're finished, I say it's about time we resumed your lessons."

The piper froze, his next sandwich stopping just before it reached his mouth.

"_What_."

"Your lessons!" the Doctor exclaimed, showing Jamie the books he had. "You'd made impressive progress in the three years you were traveling with me before the other Time Lords spoiled everything; imagine how much further you could go! I've got volumes here on all sorts of subjects; I think now would be a good time…" He trailed off as Jamie gave him a blank stare. "What's the matter?"

"Doctor, I just came back," Jamie said. "Don' we have more important things to talk aboot? I want to hear aboot all the things ye've been doing while I was away. It was only four days for me, but ye said it was fifty years for ye—I want to know what all happened! I'm sure ye've got stories to tell!"

"But, Jamie, don't you want to learn?"

"I thought I was done," Jamie said. "Just before that whole thing with the War Lords happened, ye told me that I was reading and writing English so well that no one would believe that I'd ne'er set foot in a school before."

"Well, yes, you've mastered reading and writing English very well, and you should be incredibly proud!" the Doctor said. "But there's so much more for you to learn: physics, biology, mathematics, other languages, even—I was going to give you a lesson in Gallifreyan right now!"

"…Ye've gone daft!"

"Really, Jamie, I think that's quite uncalled for. These are things I want to share with you; I was hoping you'd be just as receptive to them as you were to my earlier lessons in English and basic sciences."

"Aye, but those were all basic things," Jamie pointed out. "I cannae learn all of… these things! Especially nae the Gallifreyan!"

"Well, you're certainly dressed for Gallifreyan lessons," the Doctor mused. "That Prydonian robe suits you; you look quite smart."

"Dressing like one and learning the language are two different things," Jamie said.

"True. But I still don't think why you're incapable of learning it—or the other things," the Doctor said, taking out one of the books from the stack. "Now, you see this? This book has passages in both Old High Gallifreyan and modern Gallifreyan—"

The Doctor paused as Jamie pushed the book away.

"Doctor, please," the piper said. "I don' want to go through this."

"Why?" the Doctor asked, though the Time Lord's tone of voice made it clear that he knew exactly why. "I always thought that you enjoyed our lessons."

"I did. I do," Jamie said. "Aye, then, teach me some science. Maybe that will end up better than…"

He trailed off.

"Better than what?" the Doctor asked, again with the tone of knowing exactly what the answer was. Jamie didn't answer, and the Doctor continued. "Very well, we shall get to science later; but first, I want to teach you the Gallifreyan alphabet."

Jamie cringed.

"No."

"Jamie, this is my language—something very special to me that I want to share with you."

"Doctor, I cannae learn it!" Jamie exclaimed, suddenly snapping. "So please stop asking me to!"

"And _why_ do you think that you can't learn it?" His gentle eyes were fixed on the Scot. _I know why, but I want to hear it from you_.

Jamie stared back at him, determined not to say anything, but then broke.

"Ye Gallifreyans are so advanced and clever, and yer language is so complicated and looks just like chicken scratchings to me," he said, glaring at the book in the Doctor's hands. "I heard them, Doctor—the other Time Lords, when they were lecturing ye aboot toeing the line to keep me with ye."

"You heard them?"

"Aye. 'We question yer judgment, Doctor, for choosing to travel with a primitive of an intelligence that is lower than average of his species.' And it's nae just them; I got back all my memories—even the bad ones. Even… even when the Krotons said that I was of low intelligence and had no value."

"When was that!?"

"When ye and Zoe went into the Dynatrope, and I tried to follow ye. They caught me and gave me some sort of mind probe."

"You never told me…!"

"Aye, we had to help the Gonds; I din' think it mattered, and then I forgot."

"Evidently, you did _not_ forget! And I would think that you wouldn't believe beings who think it's a good idea to either wall themselves off from intergalactic conflict, or be the cause of it!"

"I believe my father."

"…Could you elaborate on that, please?"

"I di'n learn to walk or talk as quickly as my brothers did; I was… slow with all of that. Papa thought it would be better if I learned practical things instead of going to school like they did."

The Doctor and Jamie exchanged a long, silent glance with each other. Finally, the Time Lord picked up a small device that he had placed next to the mathematics book and handed it to Jamie.

"What is this, Jamie?"

"A calculator."

"What's the square root of 200, rounded to two decimal places?"

"Um… 14.14," the piper said, after pressing a few buttons on the device.

"Now, if we took the TARDIS back in time to meet your father, what would he say if I handed that calculator to him and asked him to fine me the square root of 200?"

"…He'd probably accuse ye of witchcraft."

"You see, Jamie? You know more than he does! When people look at you—whether human, Gallifreyan, Kroton, or whatever—they fail to see all of the untapped potential you have. It's one of your assets, though; they will always underestimate you, and then you can surprise them all. And I think that, this time, you will end up surprising yourself with what you are capable of."

Jamie still didn't look convinced, and so the Doctor tried a new tactic.

"Jamie, you often say I'm a daft old man, don't you?"

"Aye…"

"And yet, no matter what the situation is, whether we're dealing with monsters, villains, missions, or something unknown, you will always listen to this daft old man, no matter what mad plan he's come up with."

"Aye," Jamie said, nodding. "I trust ye. I trust ye with my life."

"Well, then," the Doctor said, with a smile. "Why is it that you trust me in the face of all of those dangers, but not with this?"

Jamie stared at the Doctor for a long time.

"Ye really think I have enough potential to learn your language?"

"Jamie, your potential is infinite," the Doctor assured him. "Now, while you finish the rest of those sandwiches, what say you also take a look at the Gallifreyan alphabet?"

And this time, Jamie nodded.


	3. The Best-Laid Plans

_Notes: This third installment in the 6B slice-of-life series was an experiment in writing in a different tense. This one can be summarized as "Five times the Doctor encouraged Jamie to try new things from the future, and one time he didn't." It's purposefully lighthearted (so as to make up for the sad oneshot I posted the other day), and it references bits of DW meta from the expanded universe, as well as my own "Gallifreyans are crocodilians" headcanon_.

* * *

It's a joy to be traveling with Jamie again, the Doctor knows. But he also knows that, given the chance, Goth would be ready to take it all away from him. And so the Doctor worries and frets, trying to come up with some sort of plan that would ensure that even if the other Time Lords tried to take Jamie away, they would see the futility of it and return him to the Doctor's side.

But how…? _How_?

The Doctor's answer comes one morning at the breakfast table; during the past fifty years, after being separated from Jamie, the Doctor never ate breakfast—or dinner—content with only a light lunch. But the Doctor knows that humans place great importance on strengthening bonds over meals, and so has a fried gumblejack on the table for himself to keep Jamie company while he eats his own breakfast.

Jamie arrives at the table that morning perplexed and covered with sticky notes stuck all over him.

"Doctor, why are these wee bits of paper sticking to me? I was practicing writing the Gallifreyan language ye taught me, but when I tried to throw these bits of paper away, they stuck to me instead!"

The Doctor tries not to laugh, instead explaining about the purpose of sticky notes before taking note of what the notes on Jamie are actually saying, upon which, his eyes widen.

"Jamie, what is all this you wrote?"

"Oh, well, I found this set of sticky papers next to yer 500-year-diary in the study, so I started copying down yer notes in Gallifreyan on the papers to practice."

"Well, that explains it," the Doctor sighs.

"Explains what?"

The Doctor picks one of the notes off of Jamie's jumper.

"Why you wrote here some _highly_ unflattering things about Goth."

"Whate'er it is I said, ye said it first," Jamie reminds him. "I was just practicing writing the letters; maybe ye can help me translate what I wrote?

"Yes, well…" The Doctor trails off as he notices that, stuck on Jamie's sleeve, is a sticky note bearing the Doctor's true name, which Jamie innocently copied down with the rest of the letters. "Most of it, anyway."

As he helps Jamie remove the sticky notes, a brilliant idea sparks in the Time Lord's mind—

If Jamie were to become a walking anachronism, it would be impossible for him to be sent back to his own time, even with the memories of his travels wiped. There were other forms of memory that the Time Lords couldn't affect, and the Doctor could use methods to strengthen the other kinds that could be affected.

It's an impishly brilliant plan, and one that could work very well.

"Jamie…." the Doctor says, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. "In the three-and-a half years we traveled together before this whole Celestial Intervention Agency mess, I never did get around to teaching you about casual things from the future, did I? Like these sticky notes, for instance…"

"No," Jamie admits. "We were usually too busy running from beasties to do anything casual."

"I think," the Doctor says. "There are lots of things you would like from the future that you haven't yet seen. And seeing as though we don't have any missions at the moment… perhaps this would be a good time for you to be introduced to them."

"Instead of my lessons?"

The Doctor gives him a look.

"In _addition_ to your lessons."

"…Oh, aye. Well, it cannae hurt…"

"Excellent!" the Doctor exclaims. "Now, let's see to breakfast, shall we?"

* * *

The first item of the future that the Doctor introduces to Jamie is the smartphone; he presents him with one after breakfast as sort of a welcome-back present. Jamie is thrilled; he's seen people use these in other times, and had always thought they were "interesting wee gadgets."

The Doctor's plan is to have Jamie's hand muscles be adapted to using the smartphone; muscle memory was one type of memory that the Time Lords couldn't alter, no matter how they tried. This was just one step in the master plan, and as far as the Doctor was concerned, it was one that Jamie was going to enjoy.

Of course, even the best-laid plans of Time Lords and men don't go completely according to plan…

Within minutes, Jamie questions why there are "mad birds" on his new phone, and promptly starts playing Bejeweled during his lessons, much to the Doctor's exasperation. It isn't long before the Doctor's reading time in the middle of the night is interrupted by Jamie's discovery of emoticons and his proud announcement that he can "make and send wee faces" in his text messages—which are only sent to the Doctor, anyway… one after the other… all night long.

The other shoe drops when Jamie starts playing with the phone's web browser and spends hours on it. The Doctor takes it all in stride until he hears bagpipe videos on youtube being played in the dead of night.

It's at that point that the Doctor shuts off the TARDIS's wi-fi; he created this menace, and now he has to tame it. A mild squabble ensues, but it ends with the Doctor announcing that Jamie's next lesson is going to be in a little thing called "Moderation."

The good thing that has come from this, of course, is that Jamie was behaving very much like a 21st-century youth, as the Doctor had hoped. The other Time Lords certainly won't be able to separate Jamie from his phone—or from the Doctor.

In the end, Jamie finds a happy medium in regards to his phone usage, and the Doctor declares this phase of the plan successful.

* * *

The Doctor decides that, perhaps, it is best that the next item of the future that Jamie be introduced to be something not involving a screen. Muscle memory is still something that the Doctor wants to focus on, and, in the end, the Doctor uncovers an air hockey table he had stashed away.

"I acquired this some time ago, on a trip to America," he announces. "Never got around to using it, though…"

"What's it do?" Jamie asks, intrigued by it.

"Well, it's a game, Jamie. Do you remember the field hockey match we attended once?"

"Aye."

"Well, this is a table-top version of the game. You use this…" He hands Jamie one of the little mallets. "…To try to get the puck into the goal that your opponent is guarding."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Would you care to try it? …I fully understand if you're a bit reluctant. After all, a Gallifreyan's reflexes—"

Jamie strikes the puck with the mallet and sends it cleanly into the Doctor's goal, and then proceeds to fold his arms and glance back at the Gallifreyan.

"Now, _that_ wasn't fair!" the Doctor pouts, as he retrieves the puck.

Kid gloves are off; actually, they are never put on in the first place. The Doctor and Jamie strike the puck back and forth, unmercifully. The Gallifreyan's reflexes only stand so much against the human's sheer determination. As it becomes clearer that the two are evenly matched, it soon becomes a matter of personal honor.

All of the Doctor's previous lessons about moderation go flying out the window; the match continues on for hours, with only short breaks to catch their breath and for Jamie to quickly down something edible to keep his stamina up.

In the end, it is the TARDIS who decides that enough is enough; it's the middle of the night and the score is tied at 26-all when she plunges the room into complete darkness, much to the ire of both players.

Jamie retrieves his smartphone from his sporran and uses the screen as a light just in time to see the Doctor cast a furious glance at the ceiling, the glowing tapetum lucidum in his eyes augmenting his frustrated expression.

"Killjoy!" he fumes.

She refuses to turn the lights back on. Jamie knows exactly who is in charge here and who will win this argument, and he surrenders to the inevitable and announces that he's going to bed.

This brings the Doctor around to his senses, and he retreats to his study, not entirely sure whether to declare this phase of the plan a success or not. In the end, he decides that it is; it goes without saying that he and Jamie will have a rematch—and many more after that.

* * *

The Doctor soon realizes, however, that his own actions during the whole fiasco with the mad air hockey game has, in effect, nullified his "moderation" lecture to Jamie that he had given in regards to his smartphone use. Jamie doesn't spend endless hours on the phone anyway, despite that, which the Doctor is grateful for.

However, the fact that the Doctor doesn't have a leg to stand on in regards to moderation manifests itself when the third phase of the Doctor's plan ends up backfiring on him in the most spectacular fashion.

The plan had been simple: introduce Jamie to modern music. In retrospect, the Doctor should've realized that this would end up backfiring on him, especially since he remembers quite well what happened when Jamie received that transistor radio from Tobias Vaughn during their last encounter with the Cybermen. Why the Doctor presumed that this time would be different, he still doesn't know.

Nevertheless, once the Doctor introduces Jamie to various music apps and sites, the piper proceeds to be very selective in what he listens to—very, _very_ selective.

And the Doctor quickly realizes that he can't lecture Jamie on moderation anymore without looking like a fool. Upon making peace with that, the Doctor adopts a mantra of _it makes him happy, it makes him happy, it makes him happy_… as he hears "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" being played for the umpteenth time.

However, the Doctor can't deny that he did achieve what he set out to do in terms of his plan; it's just that it's gone horribly _right_. The Doctor sighs as he hears the song again, lodging deeper into his brain; he's certain that somewhere down the line, in one of his future regenerations, that song will return to haunt him.

…It wouldn't be half as bad if it wasn't for the fact that the Doctor can hear the TARDIS laughing at him.

* * *

For phase four, the Doctor abandons anything that has to do with electronics. This time, he's done his research, spending long hours in the TARDIS library, pouring over books on human physiology. What he finds is that humans, like several other animals, have connections between the senses of smell and taste to their memories.

Armed with that knowledge, the Doctor procures a food item that, despite being ancient, is quite popular in the modern day—a pizza. He is confident that Jamie has never seen anything like it, and as they sit down to lunch, the look of utter bewilderment on the Scot's face proves him right.

"What is _that_!?" the piper queries.

"It's called 'pizza,' Jamie."

"What planet is that from?"

"From Earth, of course!" the Doctor says. "It's been around for centuries, but it has made a niche for itself in modern cuisines all over the world. What you see before you is the modern incarnation."

"If it's all the same to ye, Doctor, I think I'll pass," Jamie states, folding his arms as he looks at the pizza.

"Now, really, Jamie, you've tried all sorts of foods on our travels; I don't see why this should be so difficult—especially when it's from your own planet! …Won't you at least sample it?"

Jamie says nothing as the Doctor places a slice of the pizza on a plate and places it in front of him. As the piper continues to look at the pizza in suspicion, the Doctor suddenly realizes this unforeseen flaw in this phase of the plan. Despite this, he waits and watches as Jamie looks around for utensils.

"You eat it with your hands," the Doctor explains, prompting a baffled look from the Scot; back when Jamie first started traveling with the Doctor, his table manners had been something to be desired, so this manages to be an intriguing change after many past lessons of etiquette.

Jamie now proceeds to give the pizza a sniff. The smell seems to be intriguing, as well, though its unfamiliarity still leaves the piper cautious about it. Realizing that Jamie is going to have to learn by example, the Doctor takes a slice of pizza for himself and begins to eat it.

The pizza is fine and of great quality, but the Doctor knows that, as a Gallifreyan, it's quite dangerous—the tomatoes in the sauce and the peppers, mushrooms, and olives on top are high in salicylic acid, which is extremely toxic to Gallifreyans. He has plenty of chocolate on hand to act as an antidote, however, so he is willing to put up with the temporary—albeit extreme—discomfort if it means that his plan is one step closer to succeeding.

In the end, the Doctor finds it completely worth it upon seeing the look on Jamie's face when, after taking his first bite of pizza, the Scot looks as though he's had a revelation and tasted the food of the Heavens, and now knows the answers to life and all of its mysteries. The piper consumes half of the pizza in one sitting and requests the other half for dinner. The Doctor is more than happy to let him have the other half and, after lunch, he retreats back to his study to consume the chocolate to counteract the salicylic acid.

Despite the unpleasant feeling in his gut, the Doctor declares this phase of the plan as an unmistakable success.

* * *

For phase five of the plan, the Doctor reluctantly decides to go back to electronics. The entertainment room in the TARDIS was one they hardly ever used, despite the fact that it had a perfectly inviting wide-screen television, surrounded by couches with reclining mechanisms in them. Now is as good a time as any to put them to use, the Doctor decides, so he parks the TARDIS in orbit over the Earth to catch the TV signals emitting from the various stations on the ground.

After a brief lesson on how the television works, the Doctor decides to let Jamie decide what to watch—against all better judgment.

For some unexplainable reason, Jamie settles on a monster movie marathon going on, the focus being on Dracula. They get through _Dracula_, _Dracula Leaves_, _Dracula Comes Back_, _Dracula Goes Away Again_, and part-way through _The Scars of Dracula_ with a bit of commentary by the Doctor on how the Time Lords despise vampires, and how vampires are among the few species in the universe that can strike undue fear into the hearts of a Gallifreyan. It takes Jamie a moment to realize that this means that vampires are real after all, and that the stories he had heard about them growing up were true.

Jamie stares at the Doctor in a mix of horror and wonder, asking him if he's ever seen any. The Doctor hesitates before admitting that yes, in the course of one of his missions before reuniting with Jamie, he had been attacked by one.

Jamie immediately checks the Doctor's neck.

"Oh, Jamie, do stop fussing over me; I wasn't turned into one of them, if that's what's worrying you!"

But he lets Jamie continue his inspection to satisfy him, deciding that this isn't the best time to let the piper know that Gallifreyans are crocodilians and, therefore, are carnivorous anyway without being turned into vampires. Once Jamie is satisfied, the Doctor tells the story of how he dealt with the vampire.

"Of course, the thing with vampires is, you deal with one, and then the kin start clamoring for revenge…" the Doctor sighs.

"So… ye're saying that we could be under attack by real vampires at any moment?" Jamie asks.

"Well, seeing as though we're perched in orbit above the Earth, they'd have to be quite determined…"

"Oh, aye," Jamie says, relaxing slightly as he looks back at the television screen. But then he frowns, pointing at Dracula's servant on the screen. "Doctor, look! That chappie looks like ye!"

"Oh, really, Jamie, don't be ridiculous… Oh, my word… he _does_."

But before either of them can get a closer look, the room is plunged into darkness and the television shuts off; before the Doctor can yell at the TARDIS again, a loud screech is heard outside in the corridor, and the Doctor finds himself with one highly alarmed piper practically hanging from his neck.

"Exactly how determined would a vampire have to be to break into the TARDIS while we were perched above the Earth?" Jamie asks, in a frightened whisper.

The Doctor's response is to return the security cling.

"Well, it's not impossible…" he admits.

Slowly, they step into the corridor, which is just as dark as the entertainment room—and the rest of the TARDIS is the same way.

"They must have retrieved some sort of deactivation mechanism and turned it on the Old Girl," the Doctor murmurs.

"And now they're in?" Jamie whispers back.

Another screech echoes from down the corridor, prompting Jamie to tighten his cling.

"So it would seem," the Doctor says. "I thank you for trying to shield my neck, but I do like to be able to turn my head, you know."

Jamie readjusts his cling to around the Doctor's shoulders, and, slowly they wander down the corridor.

"Odd…" the Doctor murmurs. "The sound came from up ahead, and yet, I feel no other presence."

"They're the undead," Jamie says, quietly. "They wouldnae feel the same—"

Another loud screech from something unseen issues from a foot in front of them. The Doctor decides that he is not going to put Jamie at risk and, instead, drags Jamie to the nearest room, which just happens to be the room where he stores the cricket bats, squash racquets, and that air hockey table. Wordlessly, they agree to take shelter here as another screech issues from outside.

The TARDIS's orbit around the Earth eventually takes them to where the sun is currently rising; this dawn finds the Time Lord and the piper hiding under the air hockey table, holding the cricket bats in the shape of a cross.

Jamie dares to wonder aloud as to whether or not the vampire left because of the sunlight, but before the Doctor can answer, he hears a familiar sound—the TARDIS is laughing again.

Furious, the Doctor realizes that there never was any vampire on board, and that the blackout and the screeching noise had been due to the TARDIS getting her revenge for when the Doctor called her a killjoy upon her stopping their air hockey match.

Jamie is too relieved to be angry, and the Doctor eventually realizes that trying to retaliate against one's sentient ship would only lead to disasters beyond all imaginings, so he lets the matter go, albeit reluctantly.

The Doctor also realizes that he can't quite determine whether introducing Jamie to television was successful or not due to the TARDIS's interference. Subsequently, they try again after breakfast, this time choosing an innocuous film about a hobbit breaking into a dragon's stolen treasure hoard. It goes quite well (though the Doctor swears that one of the wizards looks like one of his future selves), but Jamie has no desire for another marathon after what happened last night, and is content to stop after one film.

The Doctor declares this phase of the plan to be a success, as well as being forced to admit that the TARDIS taught a better lesson in moderation than he could have done at that point.

* * *

Overall, the Doctor has to admit that his plan is succeeding, despite the bizarre setbacks that occurred. Jamie is still very much a proud Jacobite piper, but he's also picked up some future habits, as the Doctor had hoped.

Both the Doctor and Jamie have learned valuable lessons in moderation. Even so, the Doctor knows that there are some things of the future that Jamie should stay away from. Jamie needs limits; the Doctor himself had limits as a Time Tot (not that he ever obeyed them, but that's another matter). And with the Doctor being fully responsible for looking after the piper, he knows that when his sixth sense tells him that something is not a good idea for Jamie to get involved with, he should listen.

And that is why, when the Doctor and Jamie are taking a casual stroll down a street on Earth, pausing when Jamie stares at a gleaming motorbike with a For Sale sign on it, the Doctor's knee-jerk reaction is a frantic "Jamie, _no_!"

Jamie is disappointed, but, in the end, has to agree with the Doctor when he says that the space-time continuum simply isn't ready for a Jacobite rebel biker. Some other day, perhaps… but not today.

And, anyway, even without his smartphone, his television, his air hockey table, his music, and his pizza, Jamie has all he could ever want anyway. He has a family again, and it's more than enough for him—and for the Doctor, too.


	4. Morning Mishaps

_Notes: This short, lighthearted piece is for a tumblr buddy; just another morning aboard the TARDIS_...

* * *

Jamie did enjoy living in the TARDIS, which he had gladly accepted as his new home the first time the Doctor took him from Culloden. With his memories restored and the Doctor having taken him from Culloden again, Jamie once again felt at ease with the TARDIS. However, one thing had stayed the same—trying to find the Doctor was, sometimes, nearly impossible.

It was one morning that Jamie was in search of the Time Lord, calling for him at the top of his lungs.

"Doctor! Och, are ye going to have breakfast or nae!? I need to know how many plates to set oot!"

Jamie was annoyed when he finally did find the Doctor in a room that was brightly lit with artificial sunlight. The walls and floor of this room were painted white, and there were white cushions all around the floor. The Doctor was sitting here with his frock coat and shirt off and his legs folded in a lotus pose as he stared ahead, unblinkingly.

"There ye are," Jamie said. "Ye di'n hear me? I thought I was shouting enough t' wake the dead!"

The Doctor didn't respond, and Jamie frowned.

"Can ye nae hear me?" he asked, walking over to the Time Lord, who didn't even so much as acknowledge the Scot's presence. In fact, the Doctor didn't even move.

Annoyance quickly turned to alarm for Jamie, who momentarily panicked.

"Doctor!? Doctor, are ye alright!?" he exclaimed.

He pressed an ear to both sides of the Doctor's bare chest, making sure that both of the Time Lord's hearts were beating. They were, and the Scot exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived.

Why wasn't the Doctor responding to him still, even as Jamie was staring right back at him?

"Are ye in a trance?" Jamie asked. "Bewitched? Aye, I've seen this happen before—witchcraft, it is! Witches can cast spells from anywhere! That old hag in the village that my father warned me aboot as a wee lad… She once had someone in a trance who was on the other side of the village. Don' ye worry, Doctor; they got that poor fellow free of the magick within hours; I can do the same for ye!"

He pulled a charm from his sporran.

"My father gave one of these to me and my brothers to protect us from witchcraft; that hag ne'er harmed any of us. Ye wear this, and ye'll be alright again."

He tied the charm around the Time Lord's neck and waited, hopefully. His smile faded as the Doctor still didn't snap out of the trance.

"It's nae witchcraft…" Jamie realized.

Remembering their last conversation about vampires, Jamie began to inspect the Doctor's neck. There were no signs of any vampires having attacked the Doctor, thankfully; it had to be something else.

"Who did this to ye…?" Jamie wondered, quietly.

His eyes fell on the serpent tattoo on the Doctor's arm—the mark of a criminal among the Time Lords. It was the first time he had gotten a good look at it.

"The Time Lords did this to ye, di'n they?" he asked, quietly, as he gently ran his fingertips over the tattooed skin. "They've put ye in a trance so ye'll obey them better? Och, I'll bet it was that Goth fellow; I'll have a word with him over the video link. I won' let him do this to ye!"

Full of purpose, Jamie got up, heading for the door of the room.

That was when something soft smacked him in the back of the head. Jamie whirled around, seeing one of the white pillows at his feet. Suspicious, his eyes turned back to the Doctor, who was still sitting in the same lotus pose.

Slowly, he approached the Doctor again. He noted that a spark seemed to be back in the Time Lord's eyes…

The Doctor's head suddenly turned, his eyes meeting the Scot's for an instant before Jamie found himself under attack by a barrage of pillows.

"What—!?" Jamie yelped, digging out from under the mound of pillows.

The Doctor now leaned against the pile of pillows with Jamie still half-buried in them; the Time Lord propped his chin in his hand so that he and Jamie were eye to eye.

"You didn't happen to notice the sign on the door that read, and I quote, 'Meditation Room,' by any chance?"

Jamie went red.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" the Doctor said, calmly.

"So… ye were nae in a trance or bewitched… Ye were meditating?"

"Exactly."

"…Oh. Then why di'n ye answer me?"

"Because, Jamie, the point of meditation is to shut out all external stimuli."

"Eh?"

"You're not supposed to react to anything going on around you; it's a matter of self-discipline," the Doctor explained. He now removed the charm from around his neck. "And now, there's this."

Jamie's face burned redder.

"…You know what I've told you about these sorts of things, don't you?" the Doctor asked, still holding out the charm. "I think you've been very unfair towards that poor woman who lived in your village. What proof do you have that she was a witch?"

"My father said nae to go anywhere near her because she practiced witchcraft. And ye di'n disobey Papa."

"And yet, you traveled with me," the Doctor said. "I remember when you used to think I practiced some sort of witchcraft."

"Aye, well, ye saved my life…" Jamie admitted. "Then I just sort of…"

He trailed off, and the Doctor smiled.

"I've grown quite fond of you, too, Jamie," the Time Lord said. "Fifty years, I did as the Celestial Intervention Agency told me to do so that you could travel with me again."

Jamie's eyes fell on the serpent tattoo on the Doctor's arm again.

"Ye did that just for me," the Scot said, quietly. "Put up with all of that…"

"Don't talk as though you aren't selfless," the Doctor said, with a smile. He handed back the charm that Jamie had placed around his neck. "You thought there really was witchcraft about; without even a second thought, you gave that to me to protect me, leaving yourself vulnerable."

Jamie blinked.

"The thought di'n occur to me…"

"And even if it had, you probably still would have given the charm to me, wouldn't you?" the Doctor asked.

The Scot smiled now.

"Of course I would have."

"And for that thought, I am grateful," the Time Lord said, grabbing his shirt and frock coat with one hand while helping Jamie out of the mound of pillows with the other. "Now, then… I believe you were asking about breakfast when you barreled in here?"

"Oh, aye!"

The mishap forgotten, the duo headed for breakfast, starting another day, which was sure to be as eventful as all of their others.


End file.
